


Migraines

by PlushRabbit



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Anime), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Gold & Silver & Crystal | Pokemon Gold Silver Crystal Versions
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 00:00:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29126124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlushRabbit/pseuds/PlushRabbit
Summary: Making up after a fight
Relationships: Wataru | Lance/Reader
Kudos: 11





	Migraines

Waking up, you already knew the day was going to be long and strenuous. There was a sharp pain in your head that intensified when you closed your jaw. The bright light that peeked through the blinds felt as if you were made to stare at a flashlight for too long. Your whole body aches and head feels as if it were stuffed with cotton balls. 

You look around the medicine cabinet for your pills, the bottle empty and coated in a thin layer of dust and you want to cry. You wince when you toss the bottle in the trash, instantly regretting your actions, when the bottle clangs and lands with a bang. 

Your mouth is dry and feels as if sand has invaded you as water rushes past your throat. Oil sizzles on the pan as you begin to prepare breakfast, Lance enters the room, letting the door close behind him, a loud slam echoes into the room and you make a passing comment to be careful. He grunts as he flips through the mail, tossing it down with a slap. He saunters into the kitchen, glasses clinking against the counter as he gins to prepare the drinks.

Everything is too much, the smell of the batter is too invasive, the sound of the oil that pops on the skillet is loud and sounds like firecrackers to your ears. A spoon tossed into the sink that clatters in the sink is all it takes to make you snap, a harsh tone that slices through the air and you only do it to just make all the noise stop for a second. His tone matches yours, patience already worn thin and the yelling has made it feel as if someone was stomping on your skull. It all goes by in a flash, less than five minutes is all it took for heavy breathing and the fire alarm to ring out, the incessant ringing to echo the room. It makes your teeth rattle and head ache as Lance waves a kitchen towel in front of it, wafting out the smoke.

The house is filled with a scent of vanilla and burnt food. You could still hear noise as a butter knife scrapes at the skillet, scratching as the charred remains of the pancakes that was going to be your breakfast. Pans clatted into the sink, the silverware torn in and bouncing around, clinking and clanking into a still as the sounds reverberated in your head.

The chair scratched at the floorboard and fingers drummed on the table, a noise that was too loud and made you feel as if your skull was going to implode and crack. You had the faintest idea of slamming your hands over your ears and screaming like a child for all the noise to stop. 

Instead you took a deep breath, the stench of smoke making you curl your lip in disgust, and slammed your hands down the table, palms stinging and chair making a dull noise as it was pushed back.

“Great, now you’re angry,” Lance muttered, turning his head and resting his chin on his palm as he gave you a glance and rolled his eyes. 

Your lips were pulled into a frown and bit the inside of your lips. “I’m-” you stared out and ended up shaking your head, not in the mood to reply to him. 

The bedroom door shut with a click and the lock turned with a clack as you dropped into the bed, curling in on yourself and trying to regain control of your breathing. Your hands were clumped and tugging on strands of your hair, twisting and knotting strands together that you were to regret later. 

Blood was rushing to your ears, a loud rushing as it filled your head and made every texture and noise feel ten times worse, everything too much and the lights too bright for you, even with the covers over you and eyes shut tight, light still peeked in. Sleep did not welcome you, it broke away from your grasp, slippering out of your grasp and you let out a low whine as your fingers rubbed into your scalp.

Your mind was swaying, twisting and turning and the pain in your head numbed to a dull thud, like a ball bouncing on a concrete wall. Sleep peeked in your mind and left the moment you tried to clasp on it. Your breathing slowed and face was flushed with heat and pain.

A weak knock ripped you from your half-asleep phase, bleary eyes peak out of the covers, and stared at the door, a shadow shuffling through the gap. Another knock sounded and you realized through your cloudy mind, that the pain has dulled, but every feeling was still intensified, sheets too scratchy, pillows too soft and the light peeking from the blinds still made your head throb. 

“Are you awake?” The doorknob rattled in an attempt to open it, and a softer voice rang out. “I need to grab some stuff before I head out.” Soft tapping with knuckles resonates in the room. “Look, I know we both lost our cool and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled.” You can hear him sigh and nails scratch at the door. You hear a soft click, the door opens without a creak.

His eyes scan the room until they land on your figure, eyes drooping and resting back on the pillow that sinks under your weight. “Migraine?”

You whine and nestle deeper into the bed. Fingers comb through your hair, stopping at the knots and returning back to the top of your skull, careful not to pull too hard. “‘M sorry too,” you mutter, reaching a hand over and wrapping your fingers around his wrist.

“Did you wake up with the migraine?” He asks, rubbing gentle circles in your scalp. You nod at his question, groaning and shutting your eyes. “Have you taken your pills?”

“Ran out,” you mutter and turn to face him, your eyes squinting in the light. His hands move down your skull to cup your cheek and you press your lips against his palm. His hand slides down to your neck, thumb resting on the middle of your neck and sliding down to cup your breast. Your eyes meet his and you raise your eyebrows. “Thought you had to go do something?”

He presses a kiss to your temple. “I can still make it in time.” Hands slide underneath your shorts, fingers massage your heat through the thin fabric of your delicates. Lips ghost above yours, “Plus, what kind of partner would I be if I didn’t take care of you first,” his eyes meet yours, amber eyes grow darker as he captures you in a kiss. 

You sigh into his mouth, a whimper muffled with his mouth as fingers rub your core. Your arousal leaks out of you and moistens your walls. “Lance,” you whine, your hips jerking to meet his hand.

His lips leave yours and his hands move away from you, resting on your hips. You raise your head to look at him, his hands going underneath the waistband of your shorts and delicates, tugging them down, his knuckles pressing down into your plush skin. You raise your hips, your knees coming up and feet planting into the mattress. Your shorts slip off with ease, the fabric tickles your skin and he tosses the fabric to the side. 

Gentle kisses are pressed against your thighs, little red marks bloom across your skin when he bites down and sucks on your smooth skin. The pain in your head has subsided, the dull throbbing now distant and only a tightness in your head remains.

His mouth presses against your folds, tongue swirling around, all your feelings of touch are focused on what his mouth is doing, his tongue darting in and out of you, hands interlocking with yours as your free hand grips and scratches at the linens. 

Your arousal coats your inner walls and falls onto his mouth, your sweet taste fills his mouth and he presses his lips closer to yours. Mouth moves upwards to cover your clit, his tongue pushes and runs down your sensitive pearl, heat flushes down to your core, your face is burning red and it spreads across your chest. Your hand runs from the linens up to your skin, gripping onto a breast and rubbing your nipple and it hardens under your touch, jolts of pleasure are sent through your body and it pools in your stomach.

Two slender fingers move inside, massaging at the gummy walls that become slick with your arousal, noises clicking sharply and back arching when he presses down a certain spot, a mewl and breathy pleas fill the room. You arch yourself further into his face, pleasure overriding the pain you were feeling minutes ago.

His fingers move inside of you with such precision, knowing the exact way to move around, to coat himself in your slick and massage your intimate parts while his tongue and mouth work on your sensitive area, softly nursing on the bud, drinking in your moans and getting drunk on them when you start to tug at his hair, your breasts abandoned and fully erect. 

Creaking wood is mixed with your moans, his hips rising and lowering in a rhythm, metal dings as he works his way out of his trousers, hips rutting against the mattress with the taste of you on his lips and ears filled with the music of your moans. High pitched whines are vibrated against you and you’re both in this odd rhythmic pacing where you jerk onto his face and scratch at his scalp while he ruts against the sheets, his cock straining and leaking a pool of his arousal into the sheets. 

Your orsgam washes over in gentle waves, your slick coating his face as his tongue continues to work, your body feels as its standing on pins and needles, your mind goes blank and you have a sweet moment of relief where your sense are on ecstasy, pain long and forgotten, your cunt quivers and shakes around his mouth, bright colors flash across your vision with eyes shut tight and you hand falls from his hair to cup at your breast.

Your legs are shaking around him and all it took for him to reach his own high was to feel yours, to feel how you shake around him, to hear how you whimper out a slurred version of his name, to feel your high wash his face. He presses deep into the bed and his seed spills out, staining the sheets and his thighs, it twitches out any remaining bit and he chants your name into your heat, hand gripping tightly onto yours.

His mouth pulls away from yours with a ‘pop’, his hand wipes gingerly across his lower mouth, fingers stick together with your slick and he tastes them, his tongue wrapping around his digits and sucks softly, humming in pleasure. Watching him take in your juice makes your lower body tingle. 

“Feel better?” He asks, pressing a lingering kiss on your pelvis, moving up on the bed to meet your eyes. 

You nod numbly, your lips moving but no sound escapes. A slow smile spreads across your face and your eyelids feel heavy as you peer at him. “Much better,” you slur out. 

Fingers scratch the crown of your head and a kiss is placed on your lips, your arousal moistens your lips. “I’m glad.” The bed rises when he gets off. “I’ll pick up some pills when I come back.”

Your eyes wander over, meeting his side as he gathers papers and a coat. “Get some rest, okay?”

You smile at him, your eyes already growing heavy and you sigh when a soft cloth wipes away the moisture that has coated you. Cool air makes goosebumps wash over your skin and they disappear when a plush blanket covers you. Soft lips meet your hairline, a hand strokes your cheek and the room is shut with a soft click.

Sleep finally welcomes you with open arms.


End file.
